


History and All

by meanoldauthor



Series: Mean Old Lady [10]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Gen, Snark, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 14:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11315403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanoldauthor/pseuds/meanoldauthor
Summary: A brief moment, where you might forget the past.





	History and All

“Snakebite tourniquet?” Adal said. “Know that one. Learned that off a fella in Bullhead, ages ago.”

“From who?” Ulysses actually turned away from the Divide, and she leaned back. He wasn’t angry, not yet, but the tone of his voice made her pick her words carefully. 

“Well… don’t rightly remember, since it was so long ago,” she said, scooting back from the edge of the chasm a little. “Didn’t look much like you, so probably not of your tribe. Didn’t mention where he knew it. Maybe learned it off one of your folk.”

Oh, shit. He still had that mask on, but she’d be blind to miss the indignation there. “No right to it, to know our ways without their history.” He pointed to the loop of tubing in her hand, and said shortly, “Show me.”

“Hell, man,” she said, finding an end. “Settle _down_. Doubt you’re the only people who thought of something like this.” He turned further, watching her work. Adal fumbled at the knot, undoing it twice before muscle memory took over. “Fuck all. Done this a million times, and now you gotta stare at me,” she muttered.

She saw him cock his head at her, but didn’t speak. She passed him the tourniquet, and he turned it over in his hands, testing it. “Wrong,” he said, almost satisfied. “Too weak a knot, would slip free. If your teacher was Twisted Hairs, glad he didn’t claim it.”

Adal tried not to sigh. “Not like I _asked_ to learn it wrong. Way I been using it, works just fine, it’s supposed to slide off once the poison’s bled out.”

“Then you never asked it _right_ ,” he said, undoing it with a quick tug. “Supposed to lock, and be cut loose. Rather take the chance of it coming free in a fight?”

She did sigh this time, rubbing at her head. “Damn it man, if you got your head out of your—” She took a deep breath. “If you listened for two seconds, I am _tryin’_ to ask right, here. History and all.” She fished another length of tubing out from under her duster. “You got a better way, then teach me.”

Ulysses narrowed his eyes a moment, but settled more comfortably across from her. She tried to follow along loop for loop, grumbling as she had to watch upside-down. “This is stupid,” she said at last, and stood just long enough to sit again, next to him. “Start over. Else I might throw this into the canyon.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw him hesitate, then unpick the knot. She leaned close, and he shifted so she could see more clearly. Her next try went better. “Ha. Not so hard, is it?”

“Meant to be done quickly,” he said, undoing his own and passing the tube over. “Again. See if you remember.”

“What? I watched you do it _once_ ,” she said, waving it under his mask. “You want to see me screw it up.”

He was only a hand-span away, and she fought the urge to lean back. She met his gaze and glowered, not giving ground. His eyes flicked over her face a moment, and she drew her lips thinner. The hell was he…?

Ulysses broke first, glancing out over the Divide. “Want to see if you remember,” he said, mildly.

“Jerk,” she muttered, but her fingers were already making the first loop. Draw the end through _here_ , loop that, then twist… “Wait, fuck…”

Ulysses reached over. He put his hands on hers as he guided her on the last few steps, quick and assured. She looked up, ready to tell him off, and realized her tongue was still sticking out between her teeth in concentration.

He let go and looked away. Mask or not, there was a faint smile around his eyes, and she folded her arms. “Thought I was supposed to do it myself.”

“Supposed to be learning,” he said, standing. Goddamn it, there was something in his voice… “Practice. Won’t stand to see some of my history carried wrong, courier. Least of all by you.”

She stood, more slowly. He returned to his place on the ledge, and she stared after him. “Meaning what, exactly?”

He glanced back over his shoulder, shrugged. “Whatever you take from it.”

Adal rolled her eyes and turned back up the trail. As she walked, she rubbed at her hands, still able to feel his touch on them. She paused at the pile of wreckage leading to the Mojave, looking back. He was faced away, but only just, as if he had been watching her go.

“Oh, hell,” she muttered. She had a war to go win. She could worry about enemies flirting with her later.


End file.
